Dead Doll
by ValkyrieMissle
Summary: the Sequel to Living Doll the season finale Sara and Grissom fluff included
1. Of Dolls and Deserts

**Author's Note:** Hola peoples well this is my first stab (haha) at a C.S.I fanfic and I put 10 times the effort thought and time into this so it should be light years ahead of my other two. Well that's it for now. Here's to hoping that Sara does not die in the season premiere. CHEERS! BTW incase your wondering the name of my story is the same as the season premiere. The squiggly lines indicate the break between what is happening to each character. R&R, ideas and flames welcome.

Chapter One:

Of Dolls and Deserts

Sara. The only person that had ever really given his life meaning. And now she was gone. Lost in a sea of grit and sand. She would never, could never know just how her smiling face had kept him sane through even the most gruesome of cases. The very thought of having to go through life, without her, was like a knife between his ribs.

But no, he couldn't allow himself to think like that. He had to hang onto that last glimmering strand of hope. As long as the doll was still alive, there was still a chance, no matter how slight, that they could find her in time. Find her before it was too late.

Grissom's thoughts were slowly turning against him. His once structured and stable way of thinking was being broken down bit by bit. When he should have been trying to figure out where she was, Gil often found his mind wandering back to Sara. Her looks, her smell, everything he could remember in case the inevitable happened…which it wouldn't. Anything but that.

At the moment he and Greg were roughly a hundred feet above the desert floor, combing every inch for even the slightest shine that would lead to the missing C.S.I. It was a nerve wreaking job, and both he and Greg were at wits end from raising their hopes only to have them shattered into millions of bite sized pieces. Even after several hot and uncomfortable hours of searching and ceaseless noise both C.S.I were still in the dark about Sara's location. Unfortunately due to the declining amount of sunlight and fuel the helicopter would have to land soon, calling a premature ending to their search.

Grissom shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, and stared once more into the seemingly endless Nevada desert.

Greg's phone was vibrating weakly in his pocket. Through some unknown miracle he was able to feel it even over the shakiness of the copter.

You have 1 new message

The front read-out on his phone boasted. Without taking his eyes off the ground below, he flipped his phone open, and glanced hurriedly at the name on the screen.

Warrick.

That could only mean bad news. There was less than no chance Natalie would even consider revealing something. He tapped the read button.

The doll is dead

Greg's head began to spin. Sara had just seemed so…so indestructible. She just couldn't be gone. Besides, it was just a doll. Maybe the mechanism making it twitch had given out… Either way he'd probably better tell Grissom.

Greg looked over at his partner. Judging by the look on his face, telling him Sara's doll was dead would be the worst news possible. Greg wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if that particular tid-bit got him thrown out of the helicopter.

It had to be done though; he just hoped he would survive it.

The spiky haired C.S.I took one last long look at the constantly changing scenery before turning towards his partner. Before Greg had the chance to get the older man's attention, Grissom was signaling to the pilot. He had seen the truck. Now how was he supposed to tell him that she night have stopped breathing?

While the helicopter was still almost four feet from the earth Grissom's feet hit the ground. He was so impatient to get Sara back he couldn't even wait for the chopper to land. A very unlikely likely thing for Grissom to do, but he was beyond caring. Personal image meant nothing when lives were at stake.

And there it was. A slightly dusty red truck that was so beaten up it could hardly be recognized for what it was. The earth sucked at Gil's shoes and he dimly noted that he was walking through thick mud, not the gritty soil indigitive of the Nevada desert. More importantly the license plate matched to the letter. This was the truck; the twisted piece of metal that was keeping Sara from him, and slowly killing her. He was close enough now to see her hand lying limply on the damp ground, fingers dug deep into the mud.

Grissom's breath came in short, ragged gasps and he was sweating bullets. By no means was he out of shape but he hadn't realized just how far he'd had to run, and in this infernal heat…

"Oh, Sara." Grissom rubbed his face. He hadn't been expecting this. Her fingernail beds had a blue hue about them a trait common in the asphyxiated. She was d--. No that couldn't be right. She was still alive… she had to be.

Grissom tried experimenting with lifting the truck. He hadn't been very hopeful but it was just as painful when it didn't budge. He began to survey the scene, wondering just how that petite blonde had been able to do so much damage in so little time.

Greg hadn't been nearly as impatient as Grissom and thus had more time to survey the scenery. The damp soft sandy soil slowly mixed with a thicker more mud like ground covering that smelled strongly of rain. Since the temperature was still well over eighty degrees the rain must have fallen fairly recently. This much rain either meant mountains or the apocalypse. He preferred to think it was mountains rather than the end of the world, much less final. Greg looked to either side of him just to confirm his theory of mountains. He was right.

Really he was just trying to distract himself from thinking about Sara. Before he knew it he and the pilot had reached the truck and a very antsy Grissom.

"Took you long enough. You, get over here." He beckoned to the pilot.

"Grissom—" Greg couldn't put it off any longer, Gil had to know. Unfortunately he wasn't listening.

"Help me lift this. Greg, when we get the truck high enough, pull her out." Greg cocked an eyebrow skeptic of how strong Grissom thought he was.

"Won't this destroy evidence?" but he grabbed the hand anyway.

Her hand was shockingly cold, and stiffer than a board. Sara was dead. He tried to stop himself from thinking it. But the more he tried to block it out the more that unwelcome sentence ran through his mind.

The truck was off. Greg yanked at her arm, pulling harder than necessary to the effect of toppling over backwards.

By the time he had gotten back to his feet, Grissom was already kneeling at Sara's face. There was no denying now that that was her. Her brown hair was strewn over her back and the big yellow C.S.I letters contrasted sharply with the navy blue fabric. This was her. And she was dead.

Grissom felt hollow. Nothing mattered anymore—or at least until he brushed the hair out of her face.

Yes, the hair color matched and the uniform was definitely Sara's. It had that same slightly intoxicating floral scent about it. But the face was all wrong. For one thing this girl was far more tanned than Sara had ever been. The bones in her face were more pronounced, and her eyes were brown.

Whoever this woman was she certainly wasn't Sara. The woman he was looking at wasn't Sara. This wasn't her body. She might not be dead… Gil had never been so happy to see a dead body in his life.

He began patting her down, looking for an ID or some other type of identification. It was a small chance, but stranger things had happened.

He paused for a moment, looking up at Greg. What the H-? Greg was sitting on the other side of the Jane Doe looking terribly depressed. He was staring at the ground looking pointedly away from her prone body. All the classic signs of having known the victim. In his relief and near confusion, Grissom had forgotten this woman's almost identical appearance to Sara.

"Did you know her?"

Ah-ha an ID. Grissom looked at the little plastic rectangle, trying not to let the surprise register too much on his features.

"Are you crazy?" Greg was beginning to think this was some kid of weird defense mechanism of Grissom's, but it was hard for him to be empathetic, seeing as how Sara was one of his real friends.

Grissom ignored Greg's question.

He glanced up. "Did Sara ever mention a sister?

gasp here is a hint: I'm not adding anything in (yet) that hasn't been already mentioned in the show. Hmm I'm gonna say I need a minimum of two reviews before the next post. I've already written most of the story so the moment I see the second review in my inbox I will post again

If you want to read an awesome C.S.I story find cause.a.scene "Our Darkest Hour" is my personal favorite but the rest are good too. Living Doll 2 is also good if you like the Sara and Greg pairing.


	2. Just Like A Human

**Author's Note:** OMG you guys are awesome… you reviewed so quick I couldn't even finish typing…sorry for the delay. Tomorrow is mai b'day YAY! Same rules as before… R&R… for any of you who noticed "Sara" was not trapped under a truck in the season finale. She was under a ford mustang. I'm sorry… but incase your wondering this IS the scene in the miniature. SORRY! I wasn't paying the best attention.

Major Props to the reviewers I luv u guys 3

Chapter Two

Just Like a Human

"What?!" Greg jumped to his feet, hastily wiping his face on his sleeve.

"Something in your eye?" Grissom grinned at the startled CSI considerably more light-hearted knowing that this wasn't her.

"Yeah." Greg walked over to stand beside Grissom. "I suppose she looks kind of like Sara…" Gil shook his head.

"Not even related. Well, not really." He handed Greg the little piece of plastic.

"Katrina Sidle? Hey, wait this is a military dependant I.D. so this girl is her sister in law? But what does she have to do with any of this?"

"I'm not too sure. There's no bleach at the scene… Maybe Natalie killed her because she's about the same size as Sara and with a little hair dye is almost a passable double. Sure fooled us."

"But where does that leave us? No clu—"Greg's eyes lit up and the ghost of a smile flitted across his features.

"Maybe we should look." Grissom got to his feet, almost afraid of what he would find.

"I hate to cut this short but we have about fifteen minutes before sunset and I'm not authorized to fly at night. We still have ten minutes left to fly before we can get back. Could you please move it along?" The pilot carefully avoided looking at the deceased.

Grissom stared at the crime scene, his instincts to look for evidence battling with his desire to find Sara. Obviously the Sara side won out

They had somehow managed to get the only freaking pilot in Las Vegas who couldn't freaking fly after dark. People were losing every penny they possessed on the strip and there was still enough bad luck to condemn Grissom to rush a crime scene.

He sighed. This was going to get tough. "Come on Greg, lets look." Grissom yanked at the passenger side door handle. The metal creaked but the door didn't move.

"Shit. Greg, a little assistance if you would." Greg stood from where he was studying the body and strode over to help unwedge the door. After several tries the two men were able to yank the door open. Lo and behold on the seat there sat… another miniature.

Greg groaned. "For once I wish we could just find someone with none of these strings attached. Or actually find who we're looking for." Grissom nodded feeling much the same way.

"We can go now." He nodded at the pilot. "Log the GPS position so we can find this place again." He carefully slid the replica off the seat and began walking away seemingly forgetting about his partner and pilot. The suspense was awful. He wanted so badly to look inside and yet was terrified at what he would see. He would just wait until he got back to the lab. Couldn't do anything else until he was back anyway. Grissom could only prey they wouldn't be too late.

"He do that a lot?" Greg nodded at the pilot. "You should count yourself lucky. He usually gives less warning." Greg walked in silence after that, also thinking of Sara, then of Holly, a rookie CSI who'd been killed in the field. He'd still been a lab rat then… and even that had been a dangerous job. With a shudder he remembered the lab explosion. That had been a fun couple of days in the hospital.

Before he realized it they were back at the chopper and soon in the air.

Twenty minutes later….

"Hurry up." Grissom was once again being almost annoyingly impatient. Every minute that ticked by was possibly bringing Sara closer to her death.

They walked into the lab greeted by the grim faces of Nick, Catherine and Warrick. They took one look at the box shaped item in Grissom's arms and narrowed their eyes. They'd seen far too many of those damn boxes.

"Call Brass, get Natalie in here." Catherine pulled out hr phone and began dialing. In all her years working in the lab she'd never seen Grissom like this.

Grissom carefully set the box on the lab table, put on a pair of gloves and carefully lifted the top off of it. The rest of the CSI's crowded around the replica, trying to view the scene.

A perfect likeness of the missing CSI was portrayed bound and gagged in what appeared to be a closet. The first thing Grissom noticed was that this doll was far more detailed then any of Natalie's others. In fact it looked exactly like her, almost eerily so.

"Poor Sara." Nick commented seeing the doll struggle against its bonds. Just then the doll stopped moving and slumped against the back wall. Everyone held their breath praying they hadn't just indirectly witnessed Sara's demise. Moments later it began struggling again, with what seemed like renewed force.

"It acts—"Grissom began

"Just like a human." Warrick finished, slightly intrigued by this anomaly.

"Hey what's this? Greg pulled a piece of paper out from underneath the miniature.

Words were printed in neat script on the page. The farther down on the page Greg got the more worried his expression became. He began to read aloud.

_Dear C.S.I_

_I'm pleased to see you found my clue. If only I could see what you do with it. It's hard to lose someone you love isn't it my dear Gil? _

_Well I have to assume that you are terribly worried about your precious Sara. She is still alive. For now._

_I feel that it is my duty to inform you of her soon to be nonexistence. You have until 20:00 on September 15 before she dies. Nick, Catherine, Greg, Warrick, and of course Gil- Although I may be currently incarcerated plans have been set in motion that should make your lives a bit more… exciting for want of a better word_

_Happy Hunting Gris,_

_Natalie_

The room was silent.

"Well we have what-- 30 hours to find her, if we can trust this timeline. Best get crackin." Nick took a huge drink of his coffee correctly guessing he would be in for another night without a wink of sleep.

"Does this house look familiar to any of you?" Grissom asked quietly wracking his brains. The four other CSI shook their heads.

"Okay then. Nick, Greg you go check out Natalie's house. Catherine, Warrick go to where the foster father used to live. If you get any leads. No matter how seemingly trivial, follow them, in the mean time I'm going to have a chat with everyone's favorite serial killer."

**Well I can't have an uber huge cliff hanger at the end of every chapter. So sorry. Thanks so much for all the reviews keep 'em coming. And… I wish for all your opinions on who you wish to follow first…Catherine and Warrick, Greg and Nicky…I mean Nick. (I've been watching the REALLY old CSI… the ones where Sara isn't really one of them yet.) Or Grissom and Natalie. Let's try for four reviews this chapter? Sorry about the delay… God must hate me… I got grounded then lost my thumb drive… I promise I'll be quicker in the future **


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